


promise me you'll stay beyond the sunrise

by buckydarling



Series: things you said [2]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, things you said, this is late and sickeningly adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 08:19:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12907950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckydarling/pseuds/buckydarling
Summary: to-thc-rcvolution asked: sprace, things you said when we were on top of the world





	promise me you'll stay beyond the sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> this took me long af sorry about that
> 
> but i lowkey am so proud of this???
> 
> i love my bois

“Spot!” A voice hissed next to his ear, startling him awake. Spot groaned, not opening his eyes, batting at whoever was the source of the noise.  _ Go away.  _ “Spot!”  Whining, Spot blearily cracked open one eye to peer at the alarm clock next to his bed.  _ 6:55 AM.  _ Spot let out another groan, rolling over to bury his face in his pillow. It was  _ Saturday.  _

 

The culprit didn’t go away, instead reaching over to shake Spot’s arm. “Spot, come one, wake  _ up!”  _ It was Race (who else, Spot thought bitterly) poking him in the side persistently. Spot peeked one eye open, taking in the sight of his best friend crouched by his bed, wrapped in the comforter from his bed, wearing a floppy winter hat and grinning with all the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning. (Spot remembered, belatedly, that it  _ was  _ Christmas morning.) Spot huffed, trying to bat him away. “What the fuck are you doing up?” he asked blearily, squinting. “More importantly,” he added, “why are you waking  _ me  _ up? Christmas is for sleeping in, ass.” 

 

Race rubbed his hands together. “Sunrise is supposed to be  _ really  _ pretty this morning, and it’s Christmas, and I want to watch it.” Spot rolled his eyes.

 

“Great,” he replied. “You have fun with that.” He attempted to roll over, letting out an exasperated noise as Race stopped him with one hand.

 

“ _ Spot,” _ he chided, smiling. “Come on. It’s Christmas.”

 

Spot opened his eyes fully for the first time, taking in the sight of Race, still in his pajamas with his glasses on and the hat covering his ears, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his cheeks glowing with excitement, and felt every argument he’d had prepared fall away like melted snow. He sighed, reluctantly kicking off the blankets.

 

“Fine,” he muttered. “Lemme put on something warmer.” Race clapped a little, standing up and waiting expectantly in the doorway while Spot pulled on a sweatshirt and warm socks, copying Race and grabbing the blanket from his bed. He followed his roommate past the tiny Christmas tree glowing softly in the still-dark living room, a few gifts piled neatly underneath, and out the door of the apartment, hiking up the stairs towards the roof. 

 

The sky was still gray when they reached the rooftop, Spot shivering a little as the cold air cut through his pajamas. He wrapped the blanket tighter around his shoulders, following Race to lean against the ledge of the roof. 

 

New York felt different early in the morning. The city lights were glowing, but it was quieter than usual on the streets. It was Christmas, and everyone was taking it slow. It had snowed the day before, and all of the gray street slush had blended with the city scenery, leaving only the undisturbed white to paint a serene picture of the city. It was peaceful, Spot mused; a side of New York seldom seen, but one he could get used to. They stood there, side by side on what felt like the top of the world, waiting for the sunrise. 

 

Race drummed his fingers on the ledge, checking his watch. “Should be any minute now-” he gasped. “Oh,  _ Spot.  _ Look at the sky!” 

 

Spot glanced up, and suddenly the gray of the early morning sky had become awash with color; fluffy pink clouds, blues and purples, a few streaks of golden amber around the horizon as the sun prepared to rise. He had to admit the sight took his breath away a little, as the city just began to wake up, color bursting onto the sky. He looked over at Race, meaning to say something, but whatever words he’d had died in his throat.

 

Race was staring at the sky open-mouthed, his face awash with childlike wonder. His eyes were shining behind his glasses, all traces of sleep gone, and his cheeks were pink from the cold. As the sun grew closer and closer to breaking the horizon, Race’s blond curls picked up traces of the light, framing his face in golden light. Spot couldn’t remember how to breathe, how to do anything; it was like looking at an angel. He was utterly transfixed.

 

**“God, you’re beautiful,” he blurted, before he could stop himself.** Race blinked, startled, and looked away from the sky. Spot felt his heart plummet down to his stomach.  _ Shit.  _

 

“W-what?” Race asked softly, looking confused. Spot’s face heated up with embarrassment.  _ Now you’ve gone and done it, asshole. You just had to fuck everything up.  _ He turned away from Race, hunching his shoulders, unable to meet his best friend’s eyes. 

 

“Nothing,” he said gruffly, trying to swallow around the uncomfortable lump in his throat. “Forget it.” 

 

Race’s voice was soft behind him, almost nervous. “Spot? Did you,” he heard Race sigh, “did you mean that?” Spot squeezed his eyes shut.

 

“What do you think, Race?” he spat, his voice barely above a whisper. Race huffed out an angry noise all of a sudden. 

 

“I don’t know, Spot! That’s why I fucking asked!” he spat back, his voice bitter. “Look, I don’t know why you’re getting so defensive. It’s fine, it’s  _ whatever,”  _ he hissed, “we can all just acknowledge that it was a joke, and pretend it never happened-”

 

“ _ God,  _ Race,” Spot cut him off, “yes, of course I meant it!” His voice betrayed him, wobbling a little. He hated it, hated the way he couldn’t keep the angry tears down. “It wasn’t a fucking joke, okay? Sorry if you hate me now, or something.” He laughed bitterly. “God knows I’d deserve it.” 

 

Race was silent behind him, and for a minute Spot was sure he’d left the roof altogether, but then he heard footsteps draw closer to him, and Race laid a careful hand on his arm.

 

“Spot?” he whispered, and Spot shook his head jerkily. “Spot,” Race said again, voice soft, tugging gently on his arm until Spot was forced to turn around and face him. He stared down at their shoes, stilling when he realized just how close he and Race were.

 

“Spot, will you look at me?” Race asked, and Spot’s breath hitched a little as Race put a hand under his chin, lifting it so their eyes met. Their faces were barely inches apart, Race’s eyes filled with a combination Spot didn’t think he’d ever seen there before. Hope, fear, nervousness, and something else he couldn’t quite place. Race swallowed. 

 

“Stop me if I’m reading this wrong,” he said, and before Spot could ask what he meant, Race leaned in carefully and pressed their lips together in a breathtakingly sweet kiss.

 

_ Oh.  _

 

Race’s lips were soft and warm against the chill of the December morning, and Spot couldn’t help but let out a little sigh, leaning forward to kiss him back. His hands fluttered for a moment before finding Race’s hips underneath the blanket he still had around his shoulders, tugging him closer, and Race made a small noise, his other hand moving to cup the back of Spot’s head, fingers playing with the soft hairs on the back of his neck. They stood there, trading slow, easy kisses until they had to break away for air. Race looked at him uncertainly.

 

“Was that,” he asked, his voice a little hoarse, “was that okay?” Spot could only nod.

 

“Perfect,” he whispered, moving both of his hands to cup Race’s face and pull him in for another kiss. Race sighed happily, angling his head just a little to deepen the kiss, their mouths opening to each other, until they were both smiling so big that they had to stop. Spot let his eyes remain closed, their foreheads resting together. Race hummed, nudging Spot’s nose with his own and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before letting out a soft gasp.

 

“Oh,  _ Spot, _ ” he whispered. “The sunrise. Look.”

 

Spot opened his eyes and let out a gasp of his own at the sight of the city skyline, framed by brilliant rays of light. The rooftop, the streets - everything was bathed in a golden, ethereal glow. Spot’s gaze inevitably drifted to Race, still wrapped in his arms, his face glowing, curls shining gold in the morning light. 

 

“It’s beautiful,” Race breathed, and Spot smiled fondly as their gazes met once more. 

 

“I can think of things that are prettier,” he replied.

 

Sure, the sunrise was gorgeous, but Spot decided it had nothing on Race’s smile as he leaned in to kiss Spot again. 

**Author's Note:**

> sort of a holiday fic oops
> 
> let me know if you enjoyed it!
> 
> tumblr: stevetrevvors


End file.
